


Stuck Between a Hale and Another Hale

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Humor, M/M, Multi, Stiles is Hale Bait, forced to share a bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-20
Updated: 2012-11-20
Packaged: 2017-11-19 02:56:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/568280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which the Hales don't understand that two grown men and a growing teenage boy can't fit in one freaking bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stuck Between a Hale and Another Hale

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on my Tumblr for a prompt fic.

Stay at the Hale house, they said.

It will be fun, they said.

Okay, no, so it was just Scott who said, and he didn’t say it would be fun, but Stiles just wants to sulk, because really?

Why does he have to stay in the creepy house while everyone else is out patrolling?

Stiles just huffs and goes back to reading the book of magicks Deaton had given him to study; Stiles was sort of his apprentice now, so that was sort of cool. But a few hours later, Stiles felt his eyelids getting heavy; he hasn’t been getting much sleep lately, so he figures he should do it now because there’s nothing else to do and it’s not like anybody needs him anyway.

He tries not to feel bitter about that bit.

So he searches the burnt husk for a place to sleep, but finds nothing except for a lone full-sized mattress in the corner of the last room on the second floor. It’s a poor excuse for a floor, to be honest. A lot of it is gone and the rest of it doesn’t feel very steady at all. It’s basically a death wish being up there, but Stiles is too tired to care - so he takes his shoes off and settles in on the bed.

An idea strikes him though, and in seconds he finds himself spreading the mountain ash Deaton gave him around the bed, just in case any Alphas from the pack of Big Bads decide to fuck shit up in the Hale house. Call him paranoid, but Stiles wasn’t getting killed tonight, especially if he’s not out there with his friends.

Once the ash is spread out in a tight circle - he moved the mattress a little so he could circle it properly, because he felt the ash would be stronger if it connected - he settled in again.

The mattress smells like dirt, Stiles notes. Not in a bad way - not really. It just smells really strongly of earth; grass, wood, and the ground. It isn’t overbearing or anything, its actually almost…calming? Stiles doesn’t know how to describe it fully, all he knows is that he feels relaxed there.

But of course his peace had to be interrupted.

“Stiles.”

“Derek,” Stiles really tried to match Derek’s calm and almost monotone voice, but all that came out was a big heap of sarcasm.

“Break the circle and move,” Derek sighs, “I want to sleep.”

“Yeah, well so do I and this is the only place to sleep comfortably.”

“You can sleep on the floor,” Derek frowns - and when is he not frowning? (Smiling while being sarcastic to Stiles does not count, by the way.)

Stiles barks out a dry laugh, “No way in hell am I sleeping on that death trap, buddy.”

And boy, Derek looks like he wants to kick Stiles in the face, but he can’t - thank you mountain ash; you can suck it, Hale.

“It’s my bed,” Derek says, and Stiles has to give him that one.

“Fine,” Stiles says, and he moves to break the circle - not actually touching it, but willing it apart. To his surprise, however Derek just pushes Stiles back onto the bed when the teen tries to get out, and then settles over to where the mattress is closest to the wall, leaving the Stiles with the view of the burned room. When the teen opens his mouth to say thank you, Derek just mutters out a, “Go to sleep, Stiles.” before he’s out cold.

Shrugging, Stiles does what he’s told and turns so that he and Derek are back to back, before going to sleep himself.

Stiles is in the middle of a pretty sweet dream of when he was a kid when he’s startled out of it by some very warm breath on his face. He opens his eyes to find himself confronted with blue ones, and he makes a strangled noise when he figures out they belong to resident zombie wolf Peter Hale.

Peter is laying down, very much on the edge of the bed and therefore extremely close to pressing his body against Stiles’. It’s not like this bed was made for two grown men and a teenager about the same size of them.

“Dude, get out!” Stiles whispers harshly. He doesn’t want to wake Derek because the guy looked like shit and really needed the rest. But then again, waking Derek would probably solve his Peter problem a lot quicker.

“I would. But you see, Stiles,” Peter speaks in soft, almost flirty tones, “The mountain ash around the bed won’t let me.”

Stiles just narrows his eyes, “I know that’s a lie because I parted the lines myself.”

But Peter just presses closer, “Mmmm, I see. Well, the wind must have pushed the lines back together when I stepped in.”

By now Peter isn’t even bothering to hold back his chuckles at Stiles’ frustration and Stiles really doesn’t understand what made Peter get on the bed in the first place, other than being a big creep.

“Then just let me break it again,” but when Stiles tries to move, Peter just pulls his hands back down and pushes him back a little.

“Oh hush,” he says, “and will you move over? I want to rest, but I hardly have any space.”

Stiles is about to fire off something about there not being any space because Peter decided to hop in a full sized mattress with two grown dudes already inhabiting it, but then he finds himself being pulled back by a strong arm.

He totally doesn’t squeak when he hits Derek’s chest, really he doesn’t. (When did the guy even move? He should have felt the guy turn over, right?)

“Thank you, Derek,” Peter says as he moves to settle in. He still presses his body against Stiles’ though; he even has the audacity to push a leg in between Stiles’ own legs.

Stiles can’t really see Derek’s face, but he assumes he’s communicating with Peter using his eyebrows (because that’s what he does when he doesn’t actually say anything with his mouth, Stiles figured out) because Peter has a serious demeanor as he back looks at Derek. After a few moments of what seems like limbo to Stiles, he feels Derek relax against him and sees Peter smiling a little before he settles in even closer to Stiles.

Derek hitches his leg over Stiles’ thighs and hooks his ankle with one of Peter’s while Peter gently places an arm over Stiles’ waist with his hand resting on Derek. Derek presses his nose in the crook of Stiles’ neck and just breathes in, while Peter does the same to the top of Stiles’ head - nosing the hair that had grown a bit longer than Stiles usually lets it. Stiles vaguely realizes that he’s in some sort of messy Hale sandwich.

“Um,” Stiles starts, and then is interrupted when the Hales say,

“Go to sleep, Stiles,” in unison.

After blinking twice, Stiles decides to just do as he’s told for the third time that night. He’ll deal with whatever this is in the morning.

For now, he thinks he’ll just revel in the comfort he feels in between the two Hales.

**Author's Note:**

> I might want to continue this. Derek/Peter/Stiles is my favorite OT3.


End file.
